


Live: On Air

by levicas



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drabble, Exhibitionism, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levicas/pseuds/levicas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is broadcasting to the whole of Night Vale, and Carlos is currently between his legs. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live: On Air

**Author's Note:**

> Anita started listening to Welcome To Night Vale so I thought I'd write her some good ol' smut since the birthday fic I wrote her got deleted. Enjoy!

Cecil had turned him down point blank at first. _No way, that’s a crazy idea_. But over the following hours he'd found himself mulling the idea over in his head. Was it really such a bad idea? Well, yes, it could only go badly and ruin his reputation. He wasn't exactly _quiet_ at the best of times. But it was hot, and he honestly wasn't surprised Carlos had suggested it - and known that Cecil would eventually agree. And the more he thought about it the more he felt more inclined to do it – let _Carlos_ do it. On air. Where everyone could hear. The thought of it made his dick twitch.

He liked to think he had pretty decent composure, could keep his cool in almost any situation. Except this, evidently. Cecil's voice was husky and low as he tried to stammer through the stories without attracting anymore attention than necessary. But that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? Knowing that it was very likely that they’d be caught – by the whole town, no less. That everyone would know what Carlos was doing beneath the desk. 

His logical mind told him that agreeing had been foolish, but as soon as Carlos was knelt between his legs, soft lips wrapped around his dick, he could no longer see the pitfalls of this little adventure. Every little touch sent electric shocks through his body, every scratch of Carlos’ nails against his thighs and every flick of his tongue. Even the texture of Cecil's shirt against his skin made him feel like he was already on the edge. 

Close.

So close.

But he had to hold out. He only had a few more stories to get through until he could pass over to the weather, then he’d be safe. He already wanted to scream and moan as it was – Carlos knew he was pretty vocal, and loved it, but it was only now that Cecil realised that that was possibly one of the main reasons the scientist had suggested this little act, like the kinky exhibitionist he was – but with one hand tightly intertwined into Carlos’ perfect hair and the other squeezing the edge of the tabletop as hard as he could, Cecil was just about managing to contain himself. However, the closer he got the more he could feel his composure slipping away from him.

Carlos knew what he was doing. That much was obvious.

He’d begun while Cecil was interviewing him – Cecil hadn’t realised then that that had been Carlos’ way of indicating to the listeners that he was, indeed, in the studio, which meant that not a great deal would be left to the imagination later on – by leaning across the desk and palming him into hardness through his trousers. Cecil had taken his tie off and undone the top few buttons of his shirt at that point, already beginning to get a little clammy.

After Carlos’ little segment was done, the scientist dove straight under the table and begun fiddling with the zip of Cecil’s trousers to swiftly shuffle them down to his ankles along with his underwear. That was when Cecil had begun to falter, begun biting his lip between sentences in an effort to stop himself from moaning in anticipation. 

It had gotten even more difficult to control himself when he felt Carlos’ tongue slowly gliding along his length, smacking his lips in approval when he reached the top. Then he sucked gently at the head, flicking his tongue over the tip in a way that made Cecil shiver with intense pleasure. Carlos was nothing if not enthusiastic, letting little moans and whimpers escape his lips every now and then, and staring up at Cecil with his wide brown eyes that were laced with false innocence. At least _he_ didn’t have to worry about the whole town hearing him.

Cecil buried his hands deep into Carlos’ hair, pulling him closer towards his crotch. Carlos sent him a wink and leaned down to bite the tender skin of Cecil’s inner thighs, causing him to stutter over whatever he was saying about the hooded figures in the dog park. Carlos wasn’t really listening. He strategically placed a few more bites, licks and kisses, knowing where Cecil was most sensitive, and then took him into his mouth, easily sliding his length down into his throat. He stayed there for a few moments, waiting for Cecil to move on to his next story and end his elongated pause, before sliding up again to catch his breath. Cecil’s hips jerked upwards, searching for friction when Carlos’ mouth didn’t immediately return - a sly smirk formed on the scientist’s lips, Cecil was barely keeping himself under control. He left him to writhe for a few seconds, noticing the lust in Cecil's voice as he talked about Old Woman Josie’s angels (and how they most certainly did not exist), then began bobbing his head up and down on Cecil’s cock, varying his pace and technique, and listening intently to the reactions they caused.

He slid one of his hands off of Cecil’s thigh to grasp his balls and gently press his nails in – from the barely concealed moan the move elicited he knew it had been the right choice, Cecil loved to play the boundaries between pleasure and pain, and loved it even more when Carlos left marks on his skin, no matter where they were. Knowing this, Carlos decided to work it to his advantage and bring Cecil even closer, snaking his other hand further up Cecil’s thigh to rest on his naked hip and dig his nails in deep until little specks of blood began to well at the surface.

Cecil was close, he could feel it, hear it in his voice. Carlos had to hold back a grin (not that he’d be able to grin in this rather compromising position), he knew there was no way Cecil would make it to the weather – he’d have to come on air, with absolutely no way of hiding it. Just like Carlos had planned.

Every bob of Carlos’ head, every swirl of his tongue over his dick made Cecil’s breath come in short, sharp bursts, and he was quickly becoming damp with sweat. He’d practically given up on trying to conceal what Carlos was doing to him, but still seemed fully intent on finishing the story. It would probably be wisest to just cut to the weather so he could scream all he wanted, be the vocal Cecil that Carlos knew and loved. But Carlos knew he wouldn’t do that. Cecil had a plan for how the show would progress, and he liked to stick to his plan. Add that on top of the obvious fact that Cecil would find it exhilarating to climax right on air, just as much as Carlos would love to see that happen, he should be coming any second now – with the whole of Night Vale as an audience.

“A-As you all kn-know, it h-has c-c-come to, ah, light recently--” Cecil whimpered wantonly and thrust his hips up into Carlos’ mouth. “—that, oh, Old W-Woman Josie’s daugh…ter is pregnant, again. Ah! With, erm, Josie herself - it seems. H-How peculiar.” Cecil tightened his grip on Carlos’ hair, forcing him as far down onto his dick as he could manage. “M-Medic are - ah, ahh! Um, are d-dumbfounded. The un-unborn…child…” His voice became barely more than a breathy whisper and he threw his head back and closed his eyes as he gyrated his hips into Carlos' mouth. His low voice and distance from the microphone didn’t matter, he knew the listeners would still be able to hear everything – that microphone was rather good at picking up most sounds, if they listened extremely carefully they'd probably even be able to hear Carlos. “Ah, is a comp…lete gen-gen…uh, genetic match to, uhn. God... _Carlos_.” Cecil trailed off, completely forgetting about whoever may be listening. He didn’t care anymore, all he cared about was the soft texture of Carlos' tongue, his resolve had almost entirely crumbled and he couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that were now escaping his mouth without his consent.

“Carlos,” he said again, louder this time, dragging the word out and pulling roughly on the scientist’s hair. “M-More,” he breathed. "God, ah. Ahh, _Carlos!_ ” he screamed, emptying his load into Carlos’ waiting mouth. Cecil panted hard, and fell forward onto his desk, where his microphone was staring ominously at him. “Um,” he said tiredly between his shallow breaths a few seconds later, fighting the blissed-out smile that played on his lips. “I don’t even care. Here’s the weather, listeners."

Cecil stared down at Carlos, admiring the view of his boyfriend with his lips wet and bruised and one tiny drop of come sliding down his chin. Carlos lapped it up with his tongue and smiled up at Cecil, winking at him and grabbing the hand that had previously been fisted into his hair to gently kiss each of his fingers.

“There is absolutely no way for me to reclaim my dignity now is there?” Cecil asked, smiling fondly at his boyfriend.

“Nope,” Carlos said, nonchalantly sucking at Cecil’s fingers even though there was nothing to clean off. “Not a chance.”


End file.
